Another busy week in Nairobi, Kenya has come and gone. It’s unbelievable how quickly things can become “normal”.
Back to School
It’s Monday morning. Trenton and I walk back from the gym and swing by St. Benedict’s Primary School to pick up coursebooks for the classes that we will be teaching two days a week. We plan on having a day or two to look through the material and prepare before we’ll be put in front of a class. We are handed English, Math, and Science books for 4th and 5th grade. I thank the teacher who gave us the coursebooks and we turn to leave.
“Where are you going? You’re teaching 4th grade English at 10:50 AM.”
We look at each other, not believing what we just heard. The class we are supposed to teach starts in less than 30 minutes. No time to think about that now. We run back to our rooms to shower and change. We get back to the school just in time. We walk into a classroom full of 4th grade students, not even knowing what page of the coursebook they’re on. Did they have homework from the class before? What is a conjunctive again? How are we going to structure an entire class period on the fly? Luckily there’s two of us and when one starts to fumble the other can jump in. As the class period finishes I’m able to breathe a sigh of relief. I’m confident that our students learned something and I feel good about my first experience teaching. A teacher sees us as we walk towards the staff lounge.
“You’re supposed to be with the 5th graders teaching mathematics right now!!”
The sense of relief dries up instantly. We are thrown right into our second class. The students are learning about angles and we teach them what a protractor is and how they can use it to measure angles. The class period is over in the blink of an eye and we’re sent back to the 4th graders for their math class. They’re also working on angles, but don’t need to use protractors yet. We go over the types of angles; acute, right, and obtuse.
We survived our first day of teaching. There’s a lot we can work on for next time but I’m proud of what we did today. This morning I didn’t believe that I was capable of walking into a class and teaching a random subject with no preparation. It turns out that this wasn’t true.
What other false beliefs do I hold that are limiting what I can do?
Land of Extremes
Trenton and I meet Ashley, Amani, and Bakari for supper at Two Rivers Mall on Wednesday night. Ashley is a CSB alumni who has lived in Kenya for the last 4 years. She is also Amani and Bakari’s mother. She’s a big foodie and let us know that if we’re ever looking for a taste of home we should let her know. After almost 2 weeks, we are more than ready to mix up our daily diet of ugali, rice, and kale. As we walk through the mall looking for the restaurant, I’m struck by the thought that we could be in the US right now. There’s a Nike storefront on our left and an Italian sit-down on our right. The mall is one of the nicest I’ve seen anywhere, complete with a Ferris Wheel and waterpark out front. This is a completely different world than the Mathare slum. We were there a couple of hours ago. It’s less than 5 miles away. In Mathare, families crowd into single-room apartments, struggling to make the 5,000 shilling (about $35 USD) rent each month. Things like sending your children to school and getting three meals a day sound nice but aren’t a reality. I think about what a difference just $10 a month would make to a family in this position. I’m about to spend that much on supper without a second thought.
I have come to realize that Kenya is a land of extremes. The Benedictine Volunteer Corps is placing Trenton and I in a unique position to see both sides of the human experience here. During the week you can find us working with some of the poorest people on Earth. That Friday/Saturday night we could be at a club where people routinely drop $1,000 on a bottle of their favorite liquor. We have also been able to witness life in Nairobi compared to life in the village. In Nairobi, the sound of cars driving by never stops. Those who can’t find work walk the streets with brown envelopes (used to carry paper resumes) all day. The hustlers here are always on the lookout for a way to make an extra 10-20 shillings ( about $0.10 USD). Money is a constant motivator; both for those who have it and those who don’t. The village is almost the exact opposite. In the village most of your day-to-day travel is done on foot. When you pass someone on the road you can plan on spending 15 or 20 minutes catching up. Exchanging services, goods, and favors is just as common as paying with cash. Asking someone for the time might be met with a laugh. It doesn’t matter here.
Many of my lunches and suppers in college were spent in friendly arguments with friends. I would often invent outrageous hypothetical situations to lend themselves to a point I was making. Life here isn’t hypothetical, but in many ways is unimaginable until witnessed firsthand.
What points is life in Kenya trying to make to me?
Look Both Ways
We saw our first casualty to Nairobi driving this week. Our Uber driver wasn’t paying attention to the road and hit a pedestrian. Luckily, he wasn’t hurt too badly. Our driver looked at us and got out of his car without a word. He paid the man he hit enough money for a hospital visit. The traffic cop that witnessed the accident silently directed traffic during the exchange. Our driver was back on the road a couple minutes after hitting someone, this time with an empty car. We had decided to find a new driver for the remainder of our journey. I didn’t need a reminder to be careful on the streets here, but I’ll take it as one anyways.
Thanks for reading!